


a modest proposal

by spiritedwhere



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Years Later, unnecessary angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritedwhere/pseuds/spiritedwhere
Summary: in which marinette jumps to too many conclusions all at once.





	a modest proposal

**Author's Note:**

> just a short lil piece i made. it’s been a while since i’ve written anything for ml (about 2 years?!) and i recently binged s2, so wanted to write just about anything abt it.

Marinette doesn’t like to assume the worse of people. Truly, she doesn’t. Sure, she’s jumped to a few conclusions now and then, and maybe she hasn’t always been the best at first impressions, but she likes to think she’s changed quite a bit over the years.

So much in fact that when she starts getting suspicious, she doesn’t question Adrien about anything.

Oh, _Adrien_. It had been hard to think that she would be coming up on her third year dating him, even more astonishing the fact the person she had spent her teen years chasing around had been chasing herself around, only in a very different set of clothing. It was a surprise to both of them, unexpected and unwarranted, yet Marinette wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be not only her life partner, but her partner in (fighting) crime.

And back then, the change was there, and had come suddenly to the duo. She hadn’t expected to ever get pass a few sputtering sentences with Adrien, but found herself with witty remarks given to each other while very much dangling off of the Eiffel tower, or long nights spent after a particular nasty week curled up on the highest rooftop in Paris and gazing down at the city of lights. Or kissing him softly on her balcony, shielded from wandering eyes and paparazzi that eventually caught wind that Marinette was dating the city’s most famous model.

(Not to be outdone however, Ladybug and Chat Noir had their own display of affection later that same week, not to anyone’s surprise.)

But, now that she had grown closer to him than she had gotten to nearly anyone else, Marinette could sense that for the first time, something was happening. Something strange, something she hadn’t seen before come across Adrien. She saw the way he came into her studio after long shoots, all tired eyes and shifty glances. How when she went towards him to grab his jacket and hang up his things, he’d clench tightly to his objects and do it himself. Or when she’d lay out the table with their best, he’d spend more time looking at his phone than eating the meal she’d prepared.

Marinette wasn’t the type to question everything Adrien did. Maybe before, when she was merely somewhat more than a fan but less than a friend, but not now, when he lived amongst her and fought alongside her and laid with her at night. So she merely shrugged it off at first, wanting to focus more on her designs and the ongoing fight against Akumas, and wonders what new purse she’ll design to carry Tikki in.

It was Alya that eventually tipped her off that something wasn’t right. Sipping coffee in her parent’s bakery, Marinette was confiding in her regular gossip and worries with her best friend, the Ladyblogger and most notorious journalist in the city, when she finally let slip of her most recent trouble.

“So it’s like,” she’s starting, “I go and get all dressed. Put on my best outfit, wear the stuff you made me buy, yes, _those things_. I make a nice dinner and have it all out, but he doesn’t do anything. Just stays on his phone. Eventually I get up and get ready for bed, and when I come into the room to clear the table, he’s in the exact spot as before.” Marinette takes a swing of her drink before continuing. “What should I do? Do you think I should just go up and ask him what’s up? Because I know he’s not acting right.”

Alya’s all too cool when she answers, the first red flag for Marinette. She knows that although Alya’s dated Nino for ages, and Adrien has been one of her friends, Alya wouldn’t hesitate before jumping on both of them if they so much as displaced a hair on Marinette, and this occasion is no exception.

“Relax,” she says, and Marinette absolutely knows Alya knows something. She would _never_ dismiss Marinette’s mention of the lingerie she was forced into buying, especially when Marinette remembers the price tag on it. “It’s not a big deal. He’s probably just stressed out from work; you know fashion week is coming up and he’s probably rehearsing.”

 _Wrong_. Marinette knows that excuse is bullshit, and NYFW was _last week_ , and Adrien skipped out on it for a magazine spread with Vogue. But, she doesn’t want to jump to anything, because that is _not_ who she is, so she calmly picks up her coffee and takes a smaller, softer sip, before moving the conversation elsewhere.

Marinette lets the air pass, and prepares a big dinner on the eve of their anniversary. She brings out the best silverware they have, cooks his favorite meal and calls up her father for help on a secret family recipe. Sure, she has to run to the store four times to get some ingredients she’s never heard of previously, and the whisking takes the better half of an hour, but it’s all set and the candles are lit, and she chooses to don the lingerie once again in the hopes of a magical night away. And finally, she sits down at the table and waits.

And waits. And waits. And waits. Once the sun has gone down, and the clock reads half past, it’s clear he’s not coming home any time soon. So finally, she decides to cry.

Marinette eventually gets up from the table, and she clears it, carefully wrapping up the food and putting it away. She’s cleaning the dishes and wondering if she’ll look puffy in the morning from her tears, when she hears the door open, and steps behind her grow closer and closer. Marinette feels the warmth of his arms wrap around her, unwilling to lean into his embrace. Try as she might, she can’t help herself when she sniffs for the scent of perfume, of someone else on him, scans his collar for lipstick.

Shockingly, she smells nothing.

That night, when she’s laying in bed, and Adrien’s wrapped his arms around her and curled up around her body, she can’t help the intrusion of a sudden thought. It’s crazy sure, and seems almost too wild to picture, but Marinette can’t help herself when she thinks for the first time that he might be cheating.

The next day, she’s luckily busy at work all morning, drawing new designs for the fall collections and finding fabrics to use. Morning falls to afternoon, where she heads out of her studio to join Alya for a light lunch, where thankfully Alya doesn’t think to mention Adrien, or if she wants to, can tell from Marinette’s face she wishes not to. Evening leaves her alone with her thoughts, and she wishes an Akuma would appear today, just if only to distract her for a bit. Unfortunately, she’s left to go home, where she’s opening the door to a dimly lit room.

Marinette smells the burning of wax before she reaches the living room, where dozens of candles are placed around the room. Rose petals for the floor in a pathway leading to Adrien, who looks so handsome and loving she can’t help but feel her heart flutter, even with her conflicting thoughts. And as she walks near to him, she can feel the upcoming arrival of something, something strong and powerful.

 _Perhaps a last romantic gesture before he ends it all_ , her traitorous mind slips in, just a second before she reaches his touch. And, it’s just strong enough of a thought that she can’t help the tears in her eyes.

Adrien doesn’t seem to understand they aren’t tears of joy. He’s smiling, and reaching up to wipe the tears away, whispering a greeting before kissing her forehead. And when he chooses to drop down on one knee, her heart can barely contain itself.

So, she decides to use her fight or flight reflexes in this one case.

And what does she do? She fights.

“You asshole!” she’s crying out, as Adrien gazes up at her confusingly. In his hands is a box containing one of the prettiest rings Marinette has ever seen, a diamond with endless cuts and ridges in it. Marinette clasps her face and angrily wipes away the stream of tears coating her face, not knowing whether to look away from Adrien or keep eye contact.

“Marinette?” he’s asking, standing up to hold her in his arms. “Is everything okay?”

“No! It’s not!” she’s exclaiming. “You could’ve told me what you were hiding! Or why you were always late!”

“I’m sorry,” he’s apologizing, not really sure what for. “I didn’t think it was that important.”

“It was! A lot!” Marinette looks up to see Adrien’s eyes, creased with worry and reflecting the candlelight back to her. “All the phone calls? The late nights? I thought you were _cheating_ on me!”

“ _Cheating_?” Now it’s Adrien’s turn for the outburst. “I would _never_ ; Bugaboo, I love you more than the the stars in the sky. I just- I was trying to earn the money on my own, without my father’s help. I didn’t want you to know why, but I took up some modeling jobs on my own, to save up for the ring and the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Marinette repeats, remembering about the ring now. Adrien’s closed the box, but he holds it out sheepishly at her.

“It’s just, if you want to say yes,” he starts, babbling off. He raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, chuckling as he continues. “To the ring, to you know- for us, or if you don’t, it’s fine, but wow this wasn’t how I really expected to propose to you and-“

“Adrien,” Marinette interrupts, wiping her cheek and stepping towards him. She grabs the box and opens it, holding the ring in her hands before slipping it onto her finger. She holds her hand out before him, the ring catching the light in the room. “Yes.”

“Really?” He gives her the smile she saw a thousand times on Chat Noir and twice as many on Adrien, before collecting her into a hug. “Oh my gosh, you can’t believe how happy I am!” he murmurs against her neck, before pulling away for a kiss.

Marinette doesn’t like to jump to conclusions, and after her engagement, decides it’s better not to, and to trust her heart before anything else.

That is until after their honeymoon, when she’s two weeks late. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow my tumblr mari-cheres or dm me on there for my twitter


End file.
